


Obedience (1/1)

by whichclothes



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-14
Updated: 2011-11-14
Packaged: 2017-10-26 02:04:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/277402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whichclothes/pseuds/whichclothes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Not too long after William is turned, Angelus teaches him a lesson.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Obedience (1/1)

_  
**Obedience (1/1)**   
_   
**Title** : Obedience  
 **Pairing:** Spike/Angelus  
 **Rating:** NC-17  
 **Disclaimer** : I'm not Joss  
 **Summary:** Not too long after William is turned, Angelus teaches him a lesson.  
 **Author's Notes**   
**:**   
  
Incorporating the angst_bingo prompt "humiliation." Many thanks to my beta, silk_labyrinth!

 **  
OBEDIENCE   
**

William wobbled happily down the slippery cobblestones of the close, drunk on blood and whisky and power. The smells of the city were sharp in his nose—piss and smoke and damp—but the sounds were muted, so he sang aloud, hoping he woke every pathetic human within earshot. He’d lost track of Drusilla somewhere during the night. She must have wandered off while he was raiding his prey’s prodigious liquor collection or ripping his entire library apart at the spines. He didn’t worry about it; she would turn up eventually, eyes sparkling with lust, and she would ride him until they both screamed. Most likely she was home already, waiting for him.

So William sped his pace, loping down the hill and then heading west, until he finally skidded to a halt in front of a door with slightly peeling brown paint. But when he flung the door open and marched inside, a heavy body slammed into him, propelling him against the wall hard enough to crack the plaster.

“Where have ye been, William?” Angelus rumbled into his ear.

William struggled for a moment against the big body that pinned him in place, and then he went still. “None of your bloody business, wanker.” The accent was still new to him—not quite cockney, but definitely not Oxbridge—and he liked the way it tickled the back of his throat. Darla and Angelus made fun of it, but neither of them were in any position to judge: she with her flat, nasal _a_ ’s and the _r_ ’s she growled like a cat in heat; he with his brogue twisted and warped after more than a century away from the Emerald Isle. “Where’s Dru?”

Angelus chuckled darkly. “Drusilla is … indisposed.”

For the first time, a tendril of fear twisted in William’s belly and he strained against the larger vampire’s hold. “What have you done to her, you bastard?”

“Nothin’ she didn’t deserve.”

“You … fucking mick arsehole!” William wished he could think of worse things to call Angelus, who only laughed again and wrapped a hand around William’s neck, holding his head in place and cutting off a good deal of his oxygen. “Fucker!” gasped William, whose lungs hadn’t quite learned that they no longer needed to move.

“Oh, I didn’t fuck her. Not yet. Not until she begs me nicely.” Angelus tugged William’s head away from the wall then slammed it back again, at the same time forcing a broad thigh between William’s legs. “She's fetchin’ when she begs, my Dru, isn’t she?”

William tried to spit in Angelus’s eye but reached only his cheek. Angelus’s grin didn’t fade as he used his free hand to wipe the spittle from his skin and then smear it onto William’s coat. “Now, me little Willy, you’ll be rememberin’ that Darla told ye she had business to attend to in Edinburgh.”

“We’re vampires. We don’t have bloody _business_.”

“Oh, but Darla did. And even your idiot brain should be swift enough to recall that she told ye that until her business was complete, ye were meant to remain unobtrusive. Ye do remember that, don’t ye, Willy me boy?” With each of the last three words, he rammed the palm of his hand against William’s forehead for emphasis, banging William’s aching head against the plaster thrice more.

“So?” William snarled.

“So, murderin’ the mayor’s daughter and her man and children and all their servants—would ye call that unobtrusive?”

“We were hungry.”

“Course ye were hungry, ye greedy little twat.” Angelus pressed his thigh harder, eliciting an involuntary grunt from William. “And the city’s full of trash ye can feed from freely.”

“I don’t fancy beggars and pot-scrubbers. They taste like shite.”

“Good enough for the likes of you.” Angelus’s leg was heavy against William’s groin, and his free hand was pushing a lock of hair behind William’s ear. “Ye’re after needin’ another lesson in obedience, me boy.”

William winced a bit at the memory of lashes across his back. “Fuck you.”

But Angelus laughed and moved his leg a little; and much to William’s mortification, his cock filled and grew hard. Angelus felt that of course, and he threw back his head and laughed. “Like that idea, do ye?” 

William didn’t like it, not really. It was only that he felt everything so deeply since he’d been turned, his nerve cells always tingling and strung tight as wire, his skin sensitive to the slightest caresses. It was exquisite and maddening. Angelus moved his leg slowly and William couldn’t help it—he moaned—which made Angelus laugh some more.

And then William took advantage of Angelus’s momentary distraction to push him away and scramble to the opposite end of the vestibule. “Where’s Dru?” he demanded again.

Angelus shrugged.

William shifted his face and launched himself at the bigger vampire. He got in one good blow to that smug face before Angelus knocked him to the floor and draped his body on top of William’s, hips grinding in hard, sharp teeth barely scraping against William’s neck. William didn’t move, partly because Angelus was heavy, and partly because William feared that he might disgrace himself by arching up into the delicious pressure at his groin. Angelus’s nose was bleeding, which smelled brilliant, and little droplets were staining William’s shirt.

“Ye’ll not be seeing her for a time,” Angelus said. Then he tore into William’s throat and drank until William passed out.

***

William was nearly insensible with hunger when he was dragged out of the tiny cupboard in which he’d been crammed. His arms and legs remained tightly bound as a squalling, filthy boy was thrust against him. Without even looking to see who was responsible for this largesse, William sank his fangs into the boy’s neck, bringing a blessed silence almost immediately. His belly was not quite full when the drained corpse was jerked away.

With a great deal of difficulty, William twisted himself into a sitting position, then raised his head slowly. “Have ye had time to consider yer misdeeds?” Angelus asked.

William’s response was quiet. “Yes.”

“Then it’s time for that lesson I promised ye.”

William worked his jaw but didn’t answer, which seemed to please his sire. Angelus grabbed a small knife from a side table and cut William’s ropes, then grabbed his arms and hauled him to his feet. William swayed a bit and looked down at his toes. He was naked and wanted to cover himself with his hands, but wouldn’t give Angelus the satisfaction.

“Follow,” Angelus ordered. William did, padding obediently down the long hallway. But he was surprised when they passed the door that led to the cellar—where Angelus kept his whips and paddles—and instead climbed the stairs and entered the room William had been sharing with Dru. There was no sign of her, not even a doll or a hair ribbon left carelessly about, but a large parcel wrapped in brown paper lay on the bed. Angelus gave William a wide grin. “Ye’re still missing Dru, are ye?”

“Yes,” William answered meekly.

“Then tonight ye’ll be very, very obedient. Only if I’m convinced ye’ve well learnt yer lesson will ye ever see her again.”

William looked at Angelus’s face and was convinced his sire was serious. He didn’t ask how Dru would be kept from him—whether she would be spirited away or whether one or the other of them would be dusted.

Angelus nodded and then pointed at the parcel. “Put that on.”

William’s relief at being permitted clothing turned to dismay when he saw what he was meant to wear. It was a suit of clothes and it was his size, but in a style suited for a young boy. He glanced over his shoulder at Angelus, waiting impatiently, then sighed and got dressed. First he pulled on the blue velvet knee breeches, which were gathered at the bottom and buttoned at the sides, and then the white shirt that attached to the breeches with more buttons. Next was a tunic and then a jacket with a ridiculous lace collar and flouncy sleeves. The kit was completed with white stockings, a pair of buckled shoes, and a wide-brimmed hat with a feather in it. William didn’t need a reflection to know that he looked a right prat, but Angelus laughed merrily. “It fits perfectly,” he chortled.

William didn’t answer.

It was an unusually fine evening and there were still people ambling about. William kept his head bowed as he followed Angelus down the pavement, and even though the bloody hat hid his face from passersby he could feel their stares and hear their surprised laughter at the sight of him. He imagined killing every one of them, strangling them with their own entrails and making the streets run thick with their blood. But that only made his stomach rumble.

They had walked for perhaps a mile when Angelus led them down an especially narrow and reeking close. Dirty faces stared blankly from tenement windows and doorways, and a baby wailed endlessly. William nearly collided with Angelus when the larger vampire stopped in front of a low archway and ducked inside. The ancient door that was hidden in the darkness creaked open and a thoroughly disreputable-looking man eyed Angelus and then William. When he saw the breeches and feathered hat his lips parted in a ghastly smile that revealed exactly three blackened teeth. The man smelled so horrible that William had a moment to wonder whether zombies might truly exist, but then felt Angelus grab his wrist and drag him inside.

It was a club of some sort, not nearly as seedy as William might have expected. In fact, although the interior was smoky and smelled slightly of damp, the men there were quite well-dressed and the atmosphere was peaceful. It was only when Angelus took him to a small table near the center that William realized that many of the gentlemen were sitting just a bit closer to one another than was the norm, or had a hand resting on a neighbor’s knee.

Forgetting for the moment how ridiculous he looked, William gaped at Angelus. “What do you mean—”

“Quiet.” Angelus gave William his most frightening smile and patted his thigh. “Sit here.”

“ _What_? I bloody well will _not_.”

Angelus lifted an eyebrow. “Obedience, Willy me boy.”

William stood there for a moment, wanting to tear apart everyone in the room beginning with his bastard of a sire. And then he sat, perched sideways on Angelus’s lap, as instructed. His feet dangled a few inches off the floor and Angelus wrapped a long arm around his waist. “Good boy,” Angelus said, loud enough for the men at the neighboring tables to hear. He pulled the hat off William’s head and tossed it onto an empty chair before giving William’s curls a rough tousle.

A waiter came by—a fey young man with huge green eyes—and Angelus ordered a whisky for himself and nothing for William. The waiter acted as if there was nothing odd about William’s dress or position, but most of the other men in the room were staring openly. William tried to glare at them all, but it was difficult to look intimidating while wearing a lace collar and sitting on another bloke’s lap.

Angelus was humming happily, squeezing William slightly in his arm, seeming to enjoy himself immensely. When his other hand settled squarely on William’s crotch, William had to swallow a growl of protest.

The waiter trotted over with Angelus’s drink and trotted away twice as fast. Angelus removed his hand just long enough to take a small sip, then returned it and began a slow, sensuous massage.

William tried to pretend he wasn’t in the club, or at least to distance himself from the sensation at his groin. He tried to think of terrible things: those first moments of awareness as a demon when he’d found himself buried, Cecily's scorn, clawing his way out of the earth in someone’s garden, his mother's final words. But none of those things worked, and very soon his cock grew hard. Angelus chuckled quietly and sped his movements.

Some of the club’s patrons were pretending not to notice while others were staring openly. Some gaped and others smirked. Nobody stepped forward to put a stop to the little show and William began to fear that he would climax just like that, in front of all these people. He sighed with relief when Angelus removed his hand to drink more whisky, even though that made his obvious erection very visible.

“Clasp yer hands behind yer back,” Angelus purred in William’s ear. William hesitated only a moment before obeying. And then Angelus licked very delicately just beneath William’s ear, unbelted William’s poncy coat, and pushed the tunic upwards. When he began to unfasten the buttons at William’s shirt hem, someone in the club gasped. Soon the shirt was completely detached from the breeches. William actually whimpered a bit when those broad fingers moved to the sides of his waist and undid the buttons there as well. It took only a small tug after that for Angelus to pull the front of William’s trousers open, fully exposing his erect cock.

“Sire,” William began desperately.

“Quiet now.”

“But—”

“Silence!”

William bit his lip hard, and then he—like everyone else in the room—watched as Angelus wrapped a hand around William’s shaft and began to stroke. The glans was already red and damp. The only saving grace, William reflected with an odd sort of dispassion, was the fact that vampires could not blush with shame.

A waiter crept close to them. This one was older than the first, a handsome bloke with a slightly weathered face and gray streaks in his hair; he was impeccably dressed with a bright blue ascot about his neck. He stood beside their chair and cleared his throat. “Pardon me, sirs, but—”

Angelus didn’t say anything and William wasn’t looking at his face. But Angelus must have done something because the waiter went very pale and backed away. The entire time Angelus continued his languid caresses, up and down and up again, with a slight little twist at the end, and it took all William’s strength not to flex his hips.

Nobody approached them after that, but still everyone watched. Just when William was certain he would climax, Angelus moved his hand farther down and gave William’s bollocks a little squeeze. Then he slapped William’s thigh. “Touch yerself, boy.”

William shuddered slightly but complied. He shuddered again when Angelus worked a hand under the back of his coat and set his palm against the curve of William’s buttocks. Their audience couldn’t see exactly what he was up to but perhaps they guessed, because William groaned when a blunt finger pushed into his hole and then several of the other men swore quiet oaths.

Angelus was hard too—William could feel his sire’s cock pressing against his bare hip, only the fabric of Angelus’s posh trousers between them. But Angelus was ignoring his own erection, wiggling his finger a bit and sipping at his whisky. “Keep yer eyes open, boy!” he suddenly ordered. “I want you to see them watchin’ you. They’re all thinkin’ what a slut ye are, Willy. They’re wonderin’ what it would be like to feel yer pretty lips—like a girl’s, they are—on their cocks, to bury themselves in yer sweet, tight arse. And ye’d love that, wouldn’t ye? Passed around like a whore, tastin’ their spunk on yer tongue.” He pressed his finger in deep as he said the final words, and as he scraped against William’s prostate, William came with a half-swallowed cry.

Mildly, Angelus said, “Didn’t tell ye to come, did I, me boy?”

“No,” William answered shakily.

“Tsk. Ever the miscreant. Stand up.”

William released his softening, sticky cock and stood with his hands at his sides. His breeches fell and, because the ends were still gathered above his knees, the fabric hung down over his calves and feet. 

Angelus stood as well. “Bend over the table, Willy.”

At least it gave William the opportunity to hide his face in his arms. Angelus spent a few moments fussing with him, widening his stance a bit and rucking up the shirt, tunic, and coat to reveal William’s arse. Then Angelus squeezed and pulled at William’s buttocks. “Tsk,” he said again. “Just look at that little pucker. Tis all stretched and twitchin’, it is. Greedy as the rest of you.” He began to slap his palm against William’s bared cheeks.

It was not the first time William had received blows against his arse. His father had taken a strap to him more than once, his headmaster had caned him, and Angelus had whipped him hard enough to draw blood. But those had been private affairs. Now William was being spanked in front of three dozen pairs of eyes, and the sound of it was very loud in the low-ceilinged room. His sire was strong and the blows hurt, but much worse than that was the humiliation. It was as if the power William had gained when Dru turned him had all drained away, leaving him once again weak and sniveling and useless. Acid tears stung his eyes but at least he kept them from sliding onto his cheeks.

Finally the show was over. Angelus slapped him once more—this time almost gently—and said, “Stand.” When William complied, Angelus reached over and drank the last of his whisky. “Get yerself dressed.”

William’s hands shook as he pulled up the breeches and fastened the many buttons. His underfed status, the aftermath of his climax, and the paralyzing shame of what had just happened left him feeling weak-kneed.

“Don’t forget yer hat,” Angelus said with a chuckle. Then he dug in a pocket and produced some coins, which he tossed onto the table next to his empty glass. The club patrons continued to stare as William shuffled out behind him, arse sore and trousers sticky.

The walk back to their house seemed very long, but Angelus enjoyed himself, whistling happily and grinning at the passersby.

“Where’s Dru?” William asked wearily when they were in the foyer.

Angelus tossed William’s hat to the side and seemed to consider. “Ye were _mostly_ obedient, Willy. Not entirely. We’ll be after havin’ more lessons soon. But ye can see her now.” He took William by the hand and William allowed himself to be led down the hallway. He wanted to scream and he wanted to pound Angelus’s face to a pulp, but he did neither. What was more, he admitted to himself that he’d acquiesce to his sire’s next lessons, and the ones after that. As long as Angelus was stronger and Dru refused to leave her sire’s side, William would be Angelus’s good little boy. 

Drusilla and Darla were sitting in the parlor playing cribbage. Darla barely glanced at them, but Dru looked up and smiled. “ _There_ you are, you naughty boy. I’m so very cross with you for going out to play without me.” She looked hale and hearty, her hair carefully done and her pretty dress clean and tidy, even a bit of color in her cheeks from a recent meal. 

“Apologize to the lady, William,” Angelus said with a hard nudge.

“I’m sorry, princess. Won’t do it again.”

But Dru had already turned her attention back to the game.

 _  
~~~fin~~~   
_

  



End file.
